


I Think We Should

by checkthemargins



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkthemargins/pseuds/checkthemargins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Misha knows Jared-and-Jensen better than Jared and Jensen do. Or, Jensen doesn't write Jared a poem, Jared breaks some ribs, and they fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think We Should

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first J2 fic ever, and I really had a lot of fun writing it. It's a non-au (in that they are actors on Supernatural…everything else is quite AU), and takes place during filming of Season Four. I am also pretending that they film episodes right before they air. :) Anyway, I hope that you enjoy, and any concrit or feedback would be very much appreciated!

**I Think We Should**

Jensen and Danneel break up over the phone in the middle of October. Their relationship has suffered severely under the stress of long distance and busy work schedules and not enough time spent together, and when it ends it's a mutual understanding and completely expected. Jensen answers his phone and Danneel says "Jensen, I think we should talk about some stuff", and by the time Jensen hangs up they're done.

It's as amicable as it can possibly be, but it hurts like so much hell and Jensen's chest is so tight he can hardly breathe and he can still hear the echo of Danneel's soft sobs in his head and it sucks. It just sucks. She's been such a big part of his life, part of his plans, for so long now that the sudden absence of her is startling, and he sits on the foot of his bed with one shoe on and one shoe off—because that's where he was at when she called—and thinks about her smile and her laugh and her hair until his eyes sting.

That's how Jared finds him when he wanders in thirty minutes later. He's got a hat on, because it's freezing outside and he just walked the dogs, and it's blue and grey and has a giant puffball on top that bobs around as he walks.

"Hey, Jen, you thinking some pizza? 'Cause I could go for some—" He stops short, tilts his head and takes in the whole picture. Jensen imagines he looks pretty pathetic, there on his bed holding one of his shoes in his hand and his phone in the other, staring into space and trying not to cry. Jared immediately goes all concern. He tugs his stupid hat off his head and shrugs his coat off his shoulders and onto the floor and Jensen doesn't even gripe at him for it. He watches Jared lope over and crouch down in front of him, feels Jared's big hands on his knees, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on the outsides through Jensen's jeans. "What happened?"

"I knew it was coming," Jensen says. His voice is steady.

"Oh, Jen," Jared murmurs sympathetically.

"Really. It just. I mean, knowing and experiencing are two different things, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, man. I'm so sorry." Jared says, and of course he knows. He knows just as well as Jensen does. He squeezes Jensen's knee. "Is she on her own? I can call Chad. I'm sure they can all go, y'know, be there with her, so she's not alone."

"I made her promise to call them, stay with someone tonight," Jensen says. "She was crying."

"You're an awesome guy, Jen," Jared says. "It would suck to lose you. She's allowed to cry."

"I'm not that awesome," Jensen says, and he feels like shit, because he's really not awesome at all and he fell out of love with someone he promised he'd love forever and he feels like an ass. Danneel doesn't blame him, and he doesn't blame her. She was incredibly classy on the phone. He's still pretty sure it was his fault.

"Yeah you are," Jared says immediately. He stands up and offers Jensen a hand. "Come on, you're not gonna be alone tonight either. We're going to get a drink."

"We have to work tomorrow."

"Not until noon," Jared says. He does this thing with his eyebrows where the insides curl upward together that he must've learned from the dogs because they make the same face when they want a treat. "C'mon, man. Dr. Jay prescribes alcohol. Two billion CCs."

Jensen cracks a slow smile. "Dr. Jay?" he repeats, and drops his phone so he can take Jared's hand.

"That's what they call me."

Jared hauls him up and drops his head to press a smacking kiss on Jensen's hair. "Put your shoe on. Let's hit the town." He grabs his coat and hat off the floor, puts them on and then jabs a finger in Jensen's direction, the puffball on the top of his hat shaking menacingly. "Meet you in the car, Ackles," he says, and leaves.

Jensen stares after him for a few seconds, and then shrugs and puts his shoe back on. He could go for a drink.

Within an hour of arriving at the bar, Jensen is so drunk he can barely walk, and he suspects that Jared might be sober, since he's sipping on the same beer he's had for the past forty-five minutes, but when he goes to glare balefully at his friend and tell him to grow a dick and drink like a man, he forgets what made him question Jared's manliness in the first place and instead he shrugs and grins at him.

"You're good people, Jared Padalecki," he tells him.

Jared grins slow and easy. "Thanks, Jen. You too."

"Yeah," Jensen agrees. "Yeah. We're good. I've gotta piss."

Jared laughs and gestures toward the back of the bar where the bathrooms are. "Not gonna hold it for you, dude."

"Tch," Jensen says. "Like I need you to. Shut up. I'll be right back."

He slides off of his bar stool like he's liquid and saunters across the room. A girl catches his eye on the way, and she's pretty and has a sweet smile and the pain in his chest is back with a vengeance at just the sight of her, so he looks away like he never saw her and pushes open the door to the men's room.

There's a guy in there already, washing his hands. He's got a good face and a good body under the tight t-shirt he's wearing, and when he flashes Jensen a smile it's pretty as hell.

"Hey," the guy says.

"Hey," Jensen says.

In the next few minutes, Jensen's got the guy pushed back against the wall and they're making out hot and heavy. The guy's hands are on his ass and his stubble is scraping Jensen's cheek. His mouth is hot and wet and tastes like gin. Jensen's about to force a hand between them to maybe ease some of the heat pooling between both their legs when the door opens and Jared walks in.

"Oh," Jared says, surprised.

"Sorry," the guy Jensen's pressed all up against says. "We can take this outside."

"Nah, it's okay," Jared says, and he actually looks a little amused. "I just wanted to make sure he hadn't passed out in here."

"Oh," the guy says with a grin. "S'he with you?"

Jared nods. "Well, I mean, we drove here together. He's my roommate."

"It's true," Jensen says, because he's feeling left out of this conversation.

Jared laughs a little and the guy whose name Jensen doesn't know grins and looks at Jensen. "Well, uh…You want to…?"

Jensen looks at him for a few seconds, and then back at Jared. He shakes his head. "No. Thanks, though."

The guy is still smiling when he stands up straight. "Anytime, man," he says, and walks around Jared and out the bathroom door. Jared watches him go, and when the door closes he turns back to Jensen and looks so damn sympathetic that Jensen's heart hurts.

"You okay?" Jared asks, somewhat apologetically.

Jensen frowns. Jared's standing there in a burgundy shirt with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and his floppy hair all in his eyes. Jensen doesn't so much want to be out anymore. "Let's go home," he says.

Jared nods gamely. "Sure," he says, and catches Jensen when Jensen tries to walk and stumbles.

Jensen breaks open a bottle of tequila as soon as they get home, not bothering to remove his shoes or coat until that's done. Then he and Jared sink onto the couch and Jared turns the TV on. Ninja Warrior is playing on G4. Jensen drinks and Jared wraps his hand around the back of Jensen's neck, thumb stroking the soft hair there. By the time Jensen finally puts the tequila down, the bottle is half empty. Jared turns his head to look at him. Jensen's eyes are stinging.

"Jen," Jared prompts gently.

"'m sad, man," Jensen whispers. Or tries to whisper. It comes out louder. "I'm just…" he holds his hands out, stares at them like they might give him answers. "I'm just _sad_."

Jared's hand drops from his neck to curl around his shoulder, and then Jensen's being tugged in, and they're shifting all over the couch, Jared manhandling him until they're stretched out together. Jared's got one leg stretched along the back of the cushions and the other foot on the floor, and Jensen's slumped down against him, both feet up, his head tucked under Jared's chin. "I know," Jared murmurs, rubbing his back. "I'm so sorry, Jensen."

Jensen's too drunk to fight it. Danneel is gone and his whole life is different now because of it and he misses her. Jared doesn't complain when Jensen starts to cry all drunk and snotty all over his shirt, just rubs his back and hugs him, and in the morning Jensen wakes up with a pounding headache, tucked into his own bed with a glass of water and three aspirin on his nightstand and Harley sprawled on his back across the foot of his bed.

Jared, Jensen thinks, wincing as he knocks back the pills, is an awesome best friend.

  
*******   


A couple weeks later, Jensen finds out from Misha, the make up girls, Kripke, Sera, the woman from craft services, Ben, and three extras that the thing Jared had going with Genevieve is over. Jensen corners Jared on set and crowds him back against the door to his trailer.

"Dude, you don't have to have sympathy break ups," he tells Jared. Seriously.

Jared laughs and shakes his head. "Dude," he repeats, "so not the deal."

"So what happened then?" Jensen asks.

Jared shrugs, looking thoughtful. "Gen is really awesome and we had a good time, but I'm not as interested as I should be after a month and I don't think she really is either. So we broke it off."

Jensen looks around the set until he spots Genevieve, who seems perfectly smiley flirting with a P.A. Jensen's seen only a handful of times before. "Huh," he says.

Jared grins cheerily. "Yup."

"So. You're okay then?"

"Totally okay."

"Well. Okay then."

  
*******   


Two weeks before Christmas and on the first day off he and Jared have had since Thanksgiving, Mike and Tom come to visit for a couple of days. Jensen picks them up at the airport. Mike struts out of the gate with a pair of Raybans over his eyes and a grin so wide and cocky it threatens to take over his whole face. Tom follows behind him, rolling his eyes at Jensen over Mike's shoulder.

"'Sup, dude?" Mike asks, handing Jensen his carry-on and throwing an arm across his shoulders.

"Nothin'," Jensen grins. When Tom walks up they shake hands and pull each other into a manly one-armed hug.

"Ackles," Tom says.

"Welling."

"Good to see you."

"You too, man."

Mike stares at them over the lenses of his sunglasses and rolls his eyes. "Now that you two have met," he drawls. "Let's get the hell out of here. Where's the little woman?"

The fact that Jensen knows he's talking about Jared should be telling. "He's at the house with Misha. They're decorating. Apparently we're having a Christmas party tonight."

" _Misha_ ," Mike repeats. "The hell's a misha?"

"Misha Collins," Jensen clarifies. "He's a person."

"Castiel," Tom tells Mike knowledgeably.

"Ah!" Mike says. "Got it."

Jensen throws Mike's bag back to him, lips quirking into a satisfied smirk when Mike grunts in pain, and leads them out to his car.

The house is both spotless and in complete disarray when they get back to Jared and Jensen's. Which is to say, that instead of Jared's shoes or Sam's boots or Jared's clothes or the dog's leashes or leftover pizza boxes, they trip over Christmas lights and totes full of ornaments and strands of garland and tinsel and nutcrackers and a whole metric fuckton of other Christmas crap. The place was completely and totally uncluttered when Jensen left forty-five minutes ago. Jared and Misha are capable of creating a mess of epic proportions in less than an hour.

"Tom!" Jared says brightly. He's got a strand of silver tinsel wrapped around him like a scarf and he's wearing his stupid puff-topped hat. He rises gracefully from the floor and walks over to give their guests giant crushing bear hugs. "Mike! It's really fuckin' good to see you guys!"

Jared's enthusiasm is contagious, and Mike and Tom are both smiling hugely and hugging him back, the dogs barking excitedly and winding in and out of their legs. Jensen leaves them to it and steps over a tower of giant candy canes that go in the front yard and over to Misha, who's casually smoking a joint and sprawled in one of the recliners.

"Hey Mish," Jensen says. "Thought it smelled like Christmas spirit in here."

"Hollah," Misha replies, grinning lazily. He offers Jensen the joint. Jensen takes a slow drag off of it and hands it back. "How was the airport?"

Misha's already pretty stoned, which means Jared must be too, and Mike is sniffing the air hopefully over Jared's shoulder while Jared talks animatedly with Tom, hands moving as he speaks.

"Crowded," Jensen says. "How's decorating with Santa's giant helper?"

"Fun," Misha admits honestly. "Your boy's a bucket of nuts, but he's fun."

Jensen nods an agreement. The two of them have made pretty good headway. The tree is up and the banisters of the stairs are wrapped in holly. There's mistletoe hanging in every doorway, naturally, and the little Christmas village Jared insists on setting up every single year is already up on the mantle. Though, upon closer inspection, Jensen is ninety-nine percent sure that Jared let Misha put it together this year, because the little figurine of a woman bending down to pet a Santa-hat-wearing puppy is pressed right against the crotch of a little figurine of Santa waving. In fact, it kind of looks like Santa's about to slap the woman's ass. Across the village from them, one reindeer appears to be mounting another. Jensen cuts his eyes to Misha and Misha grins again.

"How long do you think it'll take him to notice?"

"Until he goes to put it away, most likely," Jensen says, trying not to laugh.

"Solid," Misha says. After allowing Jensen to take the joint from him, Misha stands up and dusts red and green glitter from God knows what off his hands and wanders over to the new arrivals. Jensen doesn't really listen to Jared introduce them, just watches Jared's arm squeeze Misha in a hug and gesture to Mike and Tom in turn, who are both still standing in the foyer with their bags because Jared won't stop talking long enough to let them by. Jensen smiles and closes his eyes, breathes in the weed and sighs deeply, content. It's gonna be a good fucking night.

  
*******   


The party lasts until the early hours of the morning. It's not a ton of people, but a pretty good number of the cast and crew drop in and out as the hours pass. Mike spends most of the party cozying up to Genevieve, who seems to find him pretty entertaining, and by the end of the night, between Mike and Jim, most of the little characters in the Christmas Village are at least on second base.

Jensen politely kicks everyone out around two in the morning, when the party has mostly wound down anyway and the people still there are trying to help pick up. Jensen has no intention of cleaning up tonight, and though Jared's walking around with a trash bag and putting empty chip bags and plastic cups inside, Jensen can tell he's getting too sleepy. Jared's not very drunk but he's high as hell and Jensen's right there with him. Mike is both stoned and wasted, and Tom is a little glassy-eyed from the number of martinis he's had. Misha is stone-cold sober and has been for hours, and he gives all four of them sloppy hugs and wanders out to his car to go home to his wife, humming to himself.

Jensen's on the couch and Mike and Tom each have a recliner, so when Jared drops the half-full trash bag in the middle of the living room and collapses, it's on the couch next to Jensen. Jensen automatically stretches an arm across the back and Jared slumps down and drops his head back onto it. His hair is stuck to his face, and Jensen curls his hand around to unstick it with his fingertips, stroking it back behind Jared's ear. Jared yawns hugely and makes a smooth, content sound in his throat and closes his eyes. Within seconds, he's asleep. Jensen envies the ability to fall asleep that fast.

It's warm and comfortable in the living room. The Christmas tree is all lit up and Jensen's vision is watery enough to make it look pretty intense. He blinks at it thoughtfully, thinking of Jared dragging him to a tree farm last weekend after work to pick one out, even though neither of them are going to be in town for Christmas.

"So," Mike says from his recliner. His voice is low and rough and raspy, soothing in a way it's never been before. It takes a substantial amount of effort for Jensen to turn his head to look at him. Mike grins. He's got an empty scotch glass in his hand and he's slumped so low in the recliner he might as well be lying down. He tips his glass at Jared and gives Jensen a serious look. "You and Jay, huh?"

Jensen frowns, pretty sure he's missing something. He looks at Jared next to him. Jared's face is turned toward him, his mouth closed for once. He realizes he's still tracing the shell of Jared's ear and stops. Their noses brush past each other when Jensen turns back to Mike. "Huh?"

Mike laughs and Tom grins fondly and the two of them share a look that would piss Jensen off if he wasn't so comfortable, but as it is he just flips them off half-heartedly and closes his eyes. Sleep sounds pretty good.

  
*******   


The next few months pass by in a blur. They work eighteen hour days and sleep when they can and hang out a lot, bound together in the mutual misery of character bleed. Dean and Sam are fighting and not trusting each other and at each other's throats, and they've never played it before and it kind of sucks, but it's kind of fun, too, all the tension and drama. He and Jared have been sticking even closer together than normal as a result.

On set, Pamela dies and Sam looks like she's punched him in the gut. Dean asks Sam what she said to him before she died, and Sam doesn't trust him enough to answer.

Jared and Jensen go home afterwards and watch a movie.

"This season kind of hurts, dude," Jared says, the first they've spoken to each other since they left work.

"Yeah," Jensen says. He reaches over and squeezes Jared's shoulder. "Yeah, it does."

  
*******   


"I think we should have sex," Jared says.

Jensen is on the floor in his bedroom. Jared followed him in after they got home from the set, because apparently they don't spend enough time together, and is sprawled across Jensen's bed. He hasn't moved in thirty-one minutes. It's a new record. Jensen's got his old Nintendo 64 hooked up and is playing Mario Kart while he chews on a bite of the pizza from last night that he reheated. Upon Jared's thoughtful declaration, he simultaneously chokes on a piece of Italian sausage and bangs his knee against one of the wooden bed feet..

"Jen?" Jared says, sounding truly concerned, and Jensen would reassure him but he's currently trying to dislodge sausage from his throat (pun so not intended). The next second, the room shakes as Jared drops like a rock onto the floor next him and his big hand is on Jensen's back, patting gently. "Jensen, man, what the hell?"

Jensen coughs insolently at him and Jared smacks him hard enough on the back that Jensen lurches forward and the Italian sausage flies out of Jensen's mouth and dinks loudly against the TV, leaving a gross smudge of saliva on the TV screen.

"Dude," Jensen gasps, fighting between three basic reactions: cleaning the spit off the TV, running like a little girl from the room to call Misha for advice, and staring slack jawed at his best friend. It's an easy choice. Jensen wrenches his neck around to stare at Jared.

"Are you okay?" Jared asks, looking somewhat bewildered. "Dude you were just choking. Like, for real. Are you all right?"

Jensen cuts off Jared's nonsense talk with a sharp and completely spastic hand gesture in midair. "You think we should _what?_ "

"Oh, well," Jared shrugs, grinning at him. "I think we should have sex. I mean, I've been thinking about it, and it makes pretty solid sense, man."

"Oh," Jensen says.

"Yup," Jared answers. He pats Jensen on the back a couple more times and then stands up and heads for the door, hands in his pockets. "I'm gonna let you think on that for a while," he says sensibly.

"Oh," Jensen says. "Okay."

"Night, man."

"Night."

Jared walks away with a stupid wave of his giant hand, and the game tells him that he's going the wrong way.

"Shut up," Jensen tells it.

  
*******   


Misha is a fucked up weirdo of a dude who is totally awesome and has become someone without whose opinion Jensen cannot live. It's like an addiction. Misha has such profound insights that Jensen has to know what he thinks about big events that happen in Jensen's life in order to make an educated decision. 

Jensen and Misha are standing off to the side watching Jared get strapped down to a table, chatting animatedly with Jake and Phil. Jensen is completely involuntarily taken by a mental image of Jared strapped down to Jensen's bed. He shakes his physically out of his head. Jared throws his head back and laughs at something Phil said, and Jake smiles and rolls his eyes, which looks a little creepy when he's all decked out in ghoul makeup. Misha is shooting a scene across set, but when Jensen texted him he came right over to watch Jared be cut up and bled out by ghouls.

"Yeah?" he asks after Jensen finishes the story. He's got his stupid angel sword prop with him and is balancing it on the pads of two fingers, wandering in circles around Jensen as he does. "What'd you do?"

Jensen frowns at him. "I choked on my pizza and drove Yoshi right off the cliff."

"Yoshi?" Misha asks.

"Right off the cliff, man," Jensen says, and then demonstrates with his hands in case Misha doesn't get it. "I haven't lost a race in ten years. Ten years. That record's just gone now. Dust in the wind."

"We're talking Mario Kart, here?"

"Yeah."

"Got it. Nice. What'd you say to him, though?"

"I didn't say a lot. I mean, I just asked what he meant. And then he said it again, and told me he was going to let me think about it," Jensen says.

"Hm," Misha says helpfully.

Jensen frowns at him again, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Jared, who's nodding gamely at Phil and then wincing apologetically at the make-up girl who is trying to pale him up.

"That's all you've got?" Jensen asks.

"I don't know. What are your thoughts on this?" Misha asks. "I mean, are you attracted to him?"

Jensen looks appalled. "What?"

"Obviously," Misha says. It becomes apparent to Jensen immediately that he is not required for this conversation. "You are. And he is to you, also obviously. I don't see what the big deal is. Did he say anything this morning?"

"What?" Jensen says again. "No. He acted like nothing had happened. So I did too."

He finally turns to look at Misha, just in time to jerk back so that the plastic angel sword hits him in the chest instead of the mouth when Misha drops it. Jensen snatches it away from him before he can grab it and tucks it into Dean's jacket. "You get this back when you go back to work," he says.

"Well," Misha says, eyeing Dean's jacket, looking for weaknesses where he can strike like a trench coat wearing ninja, but Jensen knows this game. He's worked with Misha long enough now, is pretty sure he was a pick-pocket in his youth, knows he can slip something out of a jacket or pocket easily. So he clutches his arm protectively over the angel sword and gives Misha a stern look. Misha grins placidly at him. 

"You're over analyzing this," Misha says. "I mean, you're bisexual, aren't you?"

"I'm—"

"Of course you are," Misha says. Once again, Jensen's input isn't necessary. "And you know it. Have had some experience, naturally, so _that_ existential crisis is done and over with. You guys already live together. He's a good kid. I think you should woo him."

Jensen cocks an eyebrow. "Woo him?"

"Y'know. Chocolates. Flowers."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Is that how you wooed Vicky?"

Misha tilts his head, smiling demurely. "Vicky is special."

Jensen's brow furrows. Pointedly. "You don't think Jared is special? He's special as hell, man. Look at him."

Jared is unknowingly helpful, because at that moment he manages to choke on his own spit while he's trying to swallow, makes a sound like a sick donkey, and breaks into uncontrollable, breathless laughter where he's still lying tied down to the table.

"Granted," Misha says dryly. "Jared is clearly the specialist of special snowflakes, but I think he and Vicky might be special in different directions, y'dig? I think you should go with the traditional stuff. Jared's a good ol' Texas boy. I bet he appreciates tradition."

"And y'all are a bunch of stereotyping pricks," Jensen says. Sometimes being from Texas is tough work.

"Y'all," Misha says, and looks at him like he's the most adorable thing in the world.

"Shut up," Jensen grumbles.

Misha reaches out and ruffles his hair, which doesn't move even a little bit because of the amount of gel Dean wears.

"Anyway, I think you should totally tap that, but give him some love first. The ladies like to be paid some special attention to."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to _woo_ Jared, dude. I just want to know where all this came from."

"I think you should probably figure out how you feel about all this first, before you go trying to figure out how he does. Self-awareness is the key to happiness. And usually really good sex."

"He didn't say he wanted a _relationship_ ," Jensen says. "He said he thinks we should have sex."

"Which one do _you_ want?" Misha asks.

He's whispering now, because they're actually filming, and Sam is throwing his head back and screaming in pain as Kate-the-ghoul digs her finger into his side. Jared's really a very good actor. He really sounds like he's in a lot of pain. Jensen really kind of hates it.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "He was probably just messing around."

Misha gives him an indecipherable look that Jensen ignores. He gets those from Misha a lot. They don't ever make sense until much later. "Yeah," Misha says. "Probably."

Jensen smiles at him gratefully If Jared were serious he wouldn't have been able to let it go until he got an answer. Jensen's not entirely sure if that makes him feel better or worse. "Good stuff. Thanks Mish."

"Sure."

  
*******   


Jensen tries to get over it, he does. He kills the last few scenes of the episode and he and Jared go out with some of the crew to a bar for a while afterward and then spend most of the rest of the night a little buzzed and playing video games and eating pretzels covered in white chocolate. Jared smiles a lot and kicks Jensen's ass in Halo. He yells at the TV when some teenage girl shoots him in the face and calls him a bitch over the headset and he and Jensen team up and take her out the next round.

It's fun, and familiar, but now everything is different, because Jared's either been thinking about them having serious sex or thinking about them having made up sex; either way, Jared's been thinking about them having sex, and now Jensen can't stop thinking about Jared thinking about it.

"Jen," Jared says lazily, once they've turned off the game and _Lucky Number Slevin_ has started. He's on the floor and Jensen's on the couch and Jared's leaning back against Jensen's leg. Jared's bulked up a lot for this season, since Sam has gone all crazy and Hulk this season. His back is solid against Jensen's shins, and his ass is directly on Jensen's sock-clad feet. It's shapely, from what Jensen can tell, nice and firm and Jensen's feet fell asleep an hour ago and he hasn't asked Jared to move.

And yeah, okay, he's sitting in the living room thinking about Jared's ass. What of it. Jensen is comfortably bisexual. The kind of comfortable where he hasn't actually told anyone about it. Jared's got a nice ass. And Jensen's drunk.

"Yeah?" he says, somewhat belatedly.

"Let's sleep down here tonight."

It's a stupid idea. They do it sometimes, usually when one of them casually brings it up like Jared just did and they mutually decide to crash in the living room. But they have to work a sixteen-hour day tomorrow. Jensen has to make himself cry a few times and Jared has to spend the day in a harness getting tossed around the panic room set. They should both get a good night's sleep. In their beds. He opens his mouth to tell Jared just that and Jared turns his head and smiles a little, lips quirking up at the corners, his eyes sleepy and heavy-lidded. His lips are slightly parted and his chest rises and falls in a deep, slow breath.

"Okay," Jensen says.

Jared stretches out on the longest part of the sectional and Jensen takes the rest of it. Jared's feet still hang over the edge and Jensen fits just right. They each get a couch pillow and Jared's hair kind of tickles Jensen's temple. Jensen falls asleep listening to Jared breathe and wondering what it would be like if Jared was curled up next to him in his bed, instead of on their couch.

  
*******   


The next morning, two dozen roses (twelve white, twelve red), a box of chocolate roughly the size of Jensen's trailer, and a pink greeting card are delivered to Jared on set. He's both excited and confused, which results in him tipping himself forward in his harness before they can get him out of it and crawling forward using his fingertips. He makes it about ten feet before Bob, two camera operators, and a PA managed to wrangle him back to his place against the wall.

"Not until we break for lunch, Jared," Bob says. "We'll get someone to put them in your trailer."

Jared's eyes get big and round. Bob shakes his head firmly, but walks away rather than look at him.

Jensen, on the other hand, tells himself that it isn't possible, that Misha wouldn't do this to him.

Jared gets set loose thirty-eight minutes before Jensen does, and as a result, Dean's anxiety over Sam's detox comes off as even more real than usual. Bob is thrilled with Jensen's work, Jim slaps him on the back and tells him he did a damn good job, and Jensen takes off at a sprint out of the studio and toward Jared's trailer.

When he busts in all out of breath and wide-eyed, it's to find Jared sitting on the floor with half of the chocolate already gone, the flowers in their glass vase on the table, and the card open in his lap where he sits cross-legged on the floor.

"Hey," Jensen pants.

"Hey," Jared says around a mouthful of chocolate.

"So," Jensen starts, walking inside more sedately and clearing his throat, trying to act casual. "Who's all this from? Fan?"

"I think it's from Misha," Jared says, but he's got a smile on his face that he and Misha aren't to be trusted with, identical evil grins that the two of them share. "It's his hand-writing, anyway. But the poem is signed by you."

Jensen's heart drops into his stomach. "Poem?"

Jared's eyes crinkle at the corner in a decidedly nefarious way. "He can forge your signature really, really well, man."

Jensen drops down to his knees across from Jared and takes the piece of intensely pink paper Jared hands him. 

_O Jared,  
you are the rays of sunshine  
that warm my face  
on cold afternoons_

_your eyes are emeralds  
that shine like diamonds_

_I long to run my fingers  
through the soft  
tresses of your chocolate  
hair_

_your beauty outshines  
the stars and the moon_

_your lips are  
cupid-bows upon which  
my arrow rests  
red like rubies_

_my heart beats for you  
you are my sapphire,  
my Northern Star  
O Jared_

_I am yours._

And just under it, in the messy scrawl that is unmistakably Jensen's signature is, well, Jensen's signature. 

It takes a few minutes to sink in. For those few minutes, Jensen can only stare in abject horror at the poem. His heart is pounding and his mouth is dry.

"Jared," he says, but nothing comes after it. There are _no words_.

"It's scented," Jared says happily. "It smells like strawberries. Smell it."

Jensen does. It smells like strawberries. "Jared," he repeats. "I…"

"I'm sorry, dude," Jared answers. "I love it more than ice cream. I already photocopied it and put it up all over the set."

"You didn't," Jensen says in a terrified whisper.

"I did," Jared says. He holds up the box in front of him. "Chocolate?"

"No," Jensen whispers, but he's not answering Jared's question. Jared shrugs. Ten minutes later, Jensen is still on his knees on the floor. He mouths the phrase 'cupid-bow lips'.

"Okay," Jared says, after he's consumed four more chocolates and finally put the top back on the box. "I have to get back to make-up so they can make me look even more like a junkie. I'll see you in twenty?"

Jensen makes a sound in his throat that may or may not be a whimper, and Jared beams at him, claps him companionably on the shoulder, and leaves. It's the draft of cool air in from the open door that drags Jensen back to himself. He shakes his head, clenches his fist around the piece of scented paper in his hand, and stands up.

"Hey," he says, when he drops down off the second-to-last step of Jared's trailer and stops Ben. "You seen Misha?"

Ben gets a decidedly sly look on his face and points over Jensen's shoulder. "Just follow your Northern Star," Ben says solemnly.

Jensen closes his eyes and prays for patience, and reluctantly looks in the direction Ben's pointed. Jared is a hundred or so yards away, talking with Misha, who's smiling casually and tapping his stupid angel sword against his shoulder as he listens to whatever Jared's saying. In the end they share a stupid secret handshake that isn't secret at all, and Jared wanders off to go get his make-up reapplied.

"Misha!" Jensen shouts across the set. Everyone between them stops and stares. Jensen's fists are clenched at his side. Misha looks around and jumps theatrically, a smile still plastered on his face as Jensen stalks over to him.

"Hey, Jen," he says happily. "What's the haps?"

"The haps," Jensen says through grit teeth, "is _this_."

He shoves the crumpled poem into Misha's hand and Misha smoothes it out almost lovingly. "It's good, right? I was afraid I might have made too many references to gem stones, but upon rereading it, I think I used _just enough_."

"I. Misha I can't. I don't even. This is." Jensen can't even speak.

Misha gives him a few seconds, and when he doesn't say anything else he pats him gently on the shoulder and looks concerned. "You wanna finish a sentence there, cowboy?"

"Are you fucking _insane?!_ " Jensen hisses at him.

Misha cocks an eyebrow. "No?"

" _Yes_ ," Jensen says emphatically. "Why. Why, why, for the love of all that is good and holy. Why would you do this?"

Misha scratches his chin, "Well, you weren't going to, so I did it for you. Did Jared like it?"

"Of course he liked it," Jensen says. "He got chocolate."

"I told you he'd like it," Misha tells him. And then adds, "Also, it's pretty goddamn hilarious."

"I can't believe your fucking _face_ , Misha Collins."

Misha stares at him again, and then sighs patiently, gets up on his toes, and smacks a kiss onto Jensen's forehead. "There, there," he says. "It'll all be okay. And bite your tongue, my face is very trustworthy."

He pats Jensen twice on the cheek and steps around him, wandering off in the opposite direction to shoot Cas's scene with Anna.

  
*******   


"You're taking this too seriously," Jared tells him later that night, when they're at a bar and Jensen's on his second beer and has spent the entire day being harped on because of Misha's stupid poem. He doesn't think he's ever seen Jared laugh so much in his life. Jensen's not exactly in a bad mood, but he's sure as hell not in a good one, and Misha is directly responsible. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," Jensen says pointedly, "is that I'm getting shit for something I didn't, and wouldn't, ever do."

"Yeah," Jared says. "But it's not like we don't all know that it was Misha. No one's taking it seriously, man. I don't get why you're so embarrassed."

"Because it's embarrassing!" Jensen says.

Jared just looks at him, an eyebrow raised, his lips wrapped around the threads of his beer bottle. "So why'd he do it, anyway?" he asks after he takes a drink.

"Because he's a jackass," Jensen answers darkly. He doesn’t mention the conversation they had the day before, Misha's advice to woo Jared, or what Jared said two nights ago. He sighs heavily and scrubs a hand over his face. "It doesn't matter. It's not really a big deal. It's just been a long day."

Jared's looking at him with an expression on his face that Jensen can't read, which is unusual, but before Jensen can asks him about it it's gone, replaced by a sympathetic grin. "Yeah," Jared says. "It has."

  
*******   


"I just want to know why you're so upset about it in the first place," Misha says the next day while they watch Jared get strapped into the harness for another day of crashing into a wall over and over again, " I thought it didn't mean anything."

"Jared," Bob calls from behind the camera. "Your chocolate tresses are blocking my shot."

Jared doesn't laugh, but his lips twitch and everyone else seems to think it's pretty funny. Jared just pushes his hair behind his ear and strikes his _Zoolander_ pose. "Better?

"Much better, Moonbeam," Bob says.

Jensen kicks Dean's boot at the ground uselessly. "Shut up, Misha,"

  
*******   


After two weeks, most of the jokes have died down, and it's becoming bearable to be on set again. They're still shooting scenes from the next to last episode. Jared and Jensen have spent the last three days kicking the crap out of each other in a ritzy hotel room set. They're both pretty bruised up and it's been in turns a lot of fun and a pain in the ass.

On Friday, Dean tells Sam through a busted up face not to come back if he walks out that door, and Sam sneers and goes to stomp out of the room and off to unknowingly damn the whole world. Instead, Jared trips on something—Jensen doesn't see what—and makes a startled noise. Jensen feels a flame of panic ignite in his chest and jerks himself upright, wanting to help, but Jared's legs are knocked out from under him and he goes down _hard_ , landing directly on the knob of the broken-down door Jensen was lying next to. Jensen hears a significant crack, and he scrambles over to Jared just as Jared picks himself up onto his knees and wraps one arm hard around his ribs, which took the brunt of the hit. His face is ghost pale and his eyes are squeezed shut.

"Motherfuckingshitwhoredickeatingsonofabitchcocksuckingjizzy _nutsack_ ," Jared swears loudly.

 _Did he just say 'jizzy nutsack'?_ Jensen thinks.

"Did he just say jizzy nutsack?" Misha asks.

"Oh my God," Jared says, and then he's laughing, sudden and sharp and completely sincere as he eases himself to sit up instead of folded over himself and looks at Jensen. "That was the most graceful thing ever. I totally just broke a rib, man. That's a totally rugged and manly injury. I'm like…I'm like fuckin' _Sam_ , dude."

Jensen, caught in a cold sweat and his heart pounding so hard he can barely hear over the rush of blood in his head, looks at him dazedly. 

"Yeah," he says. He doesn't realize his hands are on Jared's cheeks until he actually feels Jared smile. Feels it. He never thought about that. He's seen it a billion times but he never thought about feeling it against his hands or something like that. It feels just as sweet as it looks. He presses his thumbs into the dimples and tries to smile. "Yeah, if Sam were a total klutz who had a tendency to trip over his giant feet."

"You know what they say about guys with big feet," Jared says at once, his voice only a little strained.

"No," Misha says in the background. "What d'they say, Jared?"

Jared looks around at him, eyes a little wide. "That we—uh—that we're like. Super."

"Weak," Misha says. The set breaks into awkward, relieved laughter and cat calls, and suddenly six or seven people are crowding around them. Realizing he's still holding Jared's face in both hands, Jensen lets his hands drop and moves out of the way. He feels unsteady, faltering on his feet. Jared's fine, broken rib notwithstanding, but that scared the crap out of Jensen. He feels like he can't catch his breath.

Luckily, Misha is there, and he grips Jensen by the arm and tugs him close, out of the way. Jensen's still staring at Jared, whose arm is bleeding because he landed on broken glass and whose face is pinched in pain despite the smile.

"Hey," Misha's saying. Jensen barely hears him, but then Misha's gripping his chin hard and forcing their eyes to meet. "Hey. Jen, he's fine. Jared is fine."

"He. He's bleeding," Jensen murmurs. He means for his voice to come out stronger, but it doesn't. His mouth tastes wrong, like he's been smoking. Like ash.

"He's _fine_ , Jensen," Misha repeats. "Look at him. He's talking and moving and he's fine. He'll go to the ER and get all fixed up and be good as new, okay?"

Jensen looks at Jared again. He stands up on his own, but keeps an arm braced protectively around his ribs. Kripke is there now, talking to Jared in a low tone like he's a wounded, skittish pet. Jared's nodding at him, smiling still, comforting. Jared's just broken a rib and he's comforting everyone else around him.

"I want to keep going," he says. "After the hospital, I mean. I'm in the zone, man. I can do this."

Kripke looks both doubtful and intensely hopeful, but Jensen knows that that last take was crap, that they're going to have to do the whole fight over again, and with broken ribs it'll be a nightmare for Jared, but he doesn't say anything. He's not Jared's keeper, or boyfriend, or anyone who can really raise any kind of fuss about it. Jared's a grown up and if he says he can handle it then he has the right to try.

"Okay," Kripke says. "If you're sure."

"Totally sure," Jared says. He looks away from Kripke, away from everyone else that's gathered around him, and directly at Jensen. Jensen couldn't look away if he tried. It's like they're sucked into a vacuum, the only two people in a room full of others. It's not Sam that's hurt and Dean who doesn't like it, it's Jared that's hurt and Jensen who doesn't like it and a whole world there between them, around them. It's not character bleed. It's not Dean's fear that's making him ache. It's his own. Jensen breathes deep and breaks the gaze. It's too much.

"Jesus," Misha whispers beside him. Jensen looks at him.

"What?"

Misha shakes his head. "You two are so fucking stupid."

  
*******   


It's almost midnight when they finally get home. Jared spent an hour at the ER with Clif and the next seven shooting the fight scene over, and over, and over. He didn't bat an eyelash, didn't flinch even once, but as soon as they walk in the front door and close it behind them, Jensen can tell that he's in a lot of pain. It's like now that he's safely inside his house he can let it go, and it's not as dramatic as Jensen figures he'd probably be if he'd been combat training with two broken ribs all day, but it's enough that Jensen can see it. Jared's shoulder's droop and his mouth pulls into a tight line and Jensen can read it in his eyes, even as Jared kneels down to pet Harley and Sadie when they clack exuberantly into the foyer. The light isn't even on yet. Jared pets the hounds, smiles when they lick at his hands and his chin, and Jensen allows it for almost a full minute before he grips Jared by the arm and tugs carefully. Jared goes with it, lets himself be pulled up.

"Go lay down," Jensen says. "I'll take care of the beasties here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jen," Jared murmurs. He's exhausted, but he smiles and drags his knuckles across Jensen's cheek. It's not a touch Jensen's ever felt from him before, and it's kind of weird and kind of nice. He smiles back and nudges Jared pointedly in the direction of the stairs and his bedroom.

Jared nods and heads up, arm bracing his ribs again. Jensen watches him disappear into his room before he looks at the dogs, both of which are staring up at him with unconditional love. He lets it draw out for a beat, two, and then says, "You wanna go outside?"

They freak right out, toenails clicking on the hardwood and Harley barking and Sadie turning in excited circles before they look at each other, pause, and then as one take off at a slip-sliding sprint to the back door. Jensen grins and follows more sedately, letting them outside. While they run around and burn off some energy out there, Jensen heats up a meatball marinara Hot Pocket and digs the pain pills Jared got from the hospital out of his jacket pocket. Then he calls the dogs back inside, gives them both a treat to keep them distracted for a while, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and heads upstairs with his hands full.

Jared's changed into a pair of sweatpants, and is sitting shirtless on the foot of the bed. His ribs are wrapped, but Jensen can see the nasty bruise peeking out from underneath the bandages, spilling blue and black up to his armpit, and he winces, tries to push away that awful, helpless feeling that nearly drowned him back on set after Jared fell.

"Hey," he says, voice more gruff than he means it to be. "Here. Brought you food."

"Awesome," Jared says. "Hot Pocket!"

"A rare delicacy," Jensen says sagely. Jared's got the food in his hand before Jensen can even hand him the plate, and it's almost gone by the time Jensen sits down on the bed next to him. After he's finished eating, Jensen makes sure Jared dutifully takes a pain pill and downs half the water before he relaxes. He scoots back on the bed and lies down, letting all the tension ease out of his shoulders, all but melting into the mattress. A few seconds later, Jared does the same. Jensen resists the urge to see where he put his plate, knows it's on the floor, but ignores the desperate need to pick it up and instead just smiles a little when Jared lies down next to him, on his side so keep any pressure off his wounded ribs. Jensen turns onto his side too, to face him.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jared says. He's smiling again. When is he not? "Just a little sore. You?"

"'m fine," Jensen answers. He grazes his fingers over the clean white wrap around Jared's torso. "You scared the fuck out of me, man."

"I know. I'm sorry. Just clumsy."

"Scary clumsy," Jensen agrees. Jared pulls his elbow back to catch Jensen's hand with his own. Jensen watches, somewhere between shocked and fascinated and horny, as Jared threads their fingers through each other and presses their palms together. Jared's hand is warm and big and dry. Jensen squeezes it carefully and the corners of Jared's lips pull into a grin. Jensen props himself up on one elbow so that he can use that hand to touch them, Jared's lips, warm and thin and a little chapped, still recovering from a harsh winter. Jared parts them, just a little, and Jensen traces them around the plush of them. Jared's eyes go heavy and dark, warm. He lifts his head off the pillow at the same time Jensen ducks his head down and their mouths meet and they're kissing.

He's kissing Jared.

He's kissing Jared and it's really, really, _really_ fucking good.

There's maybe a little bit of shyness, but no hesitation, no uncertainty. Jensen squeezes Jared's hand and threads his fingers through Jared's hair ( _chocolate tresses_ , Misha's voice in the back of his mind says) and parts Jared's lips with his own, slides his tongue across Jared's top lip and then presses it into his mouth. Jared hums a soft moan, breathes a softer sigh into Jensen's mouth and cradles the back of Jensen's head in his palm. He tastes like tooth-paste and marinara sauce and when the kiss breaks Jensen feels like he's go the entire fucking universe right here at his fingertips.

They're breathing heavy, foreheads pressed together. Jensen catches another couple of soft, chaste kisses, licks across the seam of Jared's mouth and kisses him again, bending one knee up to accommodate the sudden tightness of his jeans. It's hot, and awesome, and bright.

"Jared," Jensen murmurs. His voice is low, thick with want. "I…"

"Yeah," Jared says, because he's always been able to read Jensen's mind. "Yeah, me too."

Jensen opens eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed when Jared's hand falls away from the back of his head. He watches Jared ease himself onto his back, and then Jensen's looking down at him, miles and miles of skin and bandages and Jared's cock hard and obvious in his loose sweats. Jensen swallows hard, his mouth dry. His blood is pulsing in his veins. This is new. This is different. This is _Jared_.

"We gotta go easy," he says, but he's already moving, settling his weight between the long legs that Jared spreads in invitation. "Your ribs."

"We will," Jared agrees, a little breathless. His big hands frame Jensen's hips and pull him down. Jensen goes willingly, a soft, broken moan slipping past his lips at the rush of _pleasure-want-need-now_ that crashes through him when their groins touch. "Want you, Jen," Jared says, and it's not dirty or overly-sappy or anything at all but perfectly honest.

"Yeah," Jensen says, and he doesn't think he's ever loved anyone as much as he loves Jared right there, so open and honest and trusting and crazy and gorgeous and perfect underneath him. "Jared," he breathes. "Jay."

  
*******   


"So," Jensen says the next morning at breakfast. They're sitting across from each other at the kitchen island, eating cereal. Jared's wearing a pair of worn jeans that he dragged out of his dresser when they finally pulled themselves away from each other long enough to get up, and Jensen's wearing Jared's sweats from the night before. Jensen gestures at Jared with his spoon. "When you said a few weeks ago that you thought we should have sex, what you really meant was…"

Jared grins. "What I really meant is that I'm stupid-in-love with you and that we should have sex and then ride off into the sunset together and live happily ever after."

Jensen looks at him for so long that Jared starts to fidget, color rising to his cheeks. "Stupid-in-love, huh?" Jensen asks, and Jared drops his eyes to his cereal. "So how long's that been goin' on?"

"I don't know," Jared sighs, and peeks up sheepishly at Jensen through his eyelashes. "Since after Sandy? Forever? Since we met? I don't know. S'always just kind of been…a truth, y'know?"

Jensen stares at him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were with Danneel," Jared says, shrugging. "And then you were getting over Danneel. I mean, I saw you with that guy at the bar the night you guys broke up, and I thought, y'know…maybe, after that, since you were clearly down with guys, maybe I could…But then Misha sent me all that shit with your name on it and you freaked out, and I figured it'd be best just to let it go."

"Jay," Jensen murmurs carefully, feeling intensely guilty. He's not sure if he made Jared feel rejected or what, but he was obviously affected by Jensen's pissy mood that day somehow, and Jensen didn't mean it like that. He never did. "It was never…I think I got mad because I didn't want it to be a joke, y'know? I didn't know if you were serious that night you said we should sleep together. I was just. I dunno. It never. I mean."

Jared smiles a little. "You suck at explaining yourself, dude," he says.

"Whatever," Jensen says, waving his spoon dismissively in the air. "I wish you would've said something."

"Really?" Jared says, and he's smiling now, the ghosts out of his eyes. "'Cause I think I'm pretty glad I didn't."

Jensen can't seem to stop smiling. He scratches idly at his chin and takes another bite of Lucky Charms before he says anything. "So. Riding off into the sunset?" He tilts his head thoughtfully. "How about riding off to the Supernatural set, instead?"

"Yeah," Jared says with a little laugh. "Yeah, I think I'm good with that."

"The happily ever after part, though," Jensen says, "That we can totally do."

Jared smiles, all dimples and sharp hope. "Good," he says. "I'm. I. Yeah. Good."

Jensen nods. "Good."

  
*******   


The next time they're on set, Jared is filming the scenes with Sam and Ruby in the church, and Jensen's drinking coffee like he can't get enough of it. He and Jared didn't get a whole lot of sleep the past two nights. Jensen grins and stirs cream into his cup.

"Hey," Misha says, walking up behind him, all decked out as Cas. "I've got something for you."

Jensen cocks an eyebrow, curious, and Misha pulls a glossy pamphlet out of one of the inside pockets of his trench coat. On the cover is a picture of a young man and a young woman smiling at each other, and in big loopy letters at the top, its entitled _You, Your Partner, and Safe Sex_. "Here," Misha says.

Jensen takes it. His mouth is open, but no words come out. It's a long time before he can find his voice. "How did you _know_?"

"Tch," Misha says. "Please. Jared's been walking funny all day, and not like his ribs are hurting him, if you get my drift."

Jensen feels heat rush to his cheeks, but it doesn't stop the smile that breaks out across his face, and Misha's giving him that look again, that fond look like he's the most adorable thing in the world.

"So you finally figured out what you want, then?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jensen says, eyes on Jared. "Yeah, I did."

  


**END**  



End file.
